


A marriage

by tinkertailor



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 18:56:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkertailor/pseuds/tinkertailor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benedict and Cathy have been married for 5 years, and things are starting to go downhill. Can they work it out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A marriage

I hear the door open and shut, shoes being kicked off, a cough. I roll over on my side, staring at the wall, my ears straining to extract the noises from downstairs. Footsteps, probably making his way into the kitchen, the dining room, just to see....

“...fuck” . It’s quiet, but Istill pick it up. Tears form in the corner of my eye and I shut them closed, willing myself to stop. The sound of plates clinking together, glasses being picked up; he’s probably clearing the table of the dinner I’d prepared for us, the anniversary dinner I’d spent all afternoon preparing. I want him to storm up the stairs, say he’s sorry, say anything! Just so I can talk to him. Instead, I hear the TV turn on.

Really? I can’t believe him. What a coward. I get up and descend the staircase quietly, stopping in the doorway. The bright light of the TV illuminates the sides of his head, his curly hair messy after working for hours, no doubt.  
At some point I suppose he notices my presence, or maybe my shadow, because he turns around. 

“Hey...” he says.  
“Hi,” I reply, looking him dead in the eyes. “Thanks for cleaning up after me.”  
His eyes dart to the previously decorated table, then back to my face, before settling on staring at the floor. At least he has the decency to look ashamed.

“I’m sorry I forgot.”  
“Yes, well.. I suppose it’s my fault for not reminding you more. I was stupid enough to think that me telling you last night to be home by 6 for our 5-years anniversary dinner would be enough, but... my mistake. I guess the date of our wedding didn’t ring any alarms either.” I’m calm, but I know he can feel how angry I am. His cheeks are red, whether from anger or embarrassment, I ‘m not sure.  
“Look, I’ve had a really long day, okay? Give me a fucking break.”

I stare him down. When he doesn’t look up, I turn around and start to walk back up the stairs.  
“Oh,” I say and stop, mid step. “Lucas’ footie practice tomorrow. You said you’d come; it’s at 3, okay?”  
“What?”  
“...Right. Happy anniversary.”


End file.
